


Vigilance

by ancestrallizard



Category: Shin Megami Tensei Series, Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne
Genre: Gen, also starring various demon friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancestrallizard/pseuds/ancestrallizard
Summary: Naoki faces a steep learning curve when it comes to trust
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Vigilance

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Revelations of the Goddess zine.

“Hey, when’s your birthday?”

“Mh?” The Demifiend muttered.

“When’s your birthday?” Pixie repeated. “Have you ever had a party for it? What are they like?”

He blinked, vision blurry from sleep. Slowly, he remembered where he was – Ginza, in a empty store, propped up against a broken cabinet – and why – to rest his eyes for a bit before they all left for Ginza’s Underpass.

He got up and tried to ignore both the pain in his back and the answering ache from the rest of his muscles. He wasn’t supposed to stay there more than a few minutes. How was he dumb enough to fall asleep? How long had Pixie seen him like that?

The fairy frowned at him from a toppled display case. “You didn’t answer.”

“I don’t plan to. Why are you even asking?” He tried to make his voice authoritative, but he sounded more petulant than anything. He glanced around the empty room. Where was everyone else?

“’Cause I’m bored.” Pixie said. “And I’ve never met a human before!”

“They’re not worth knowing about.” He said, biting back a yawn. 

“Does he even count as a human, though?”

Nekomata, the newest recruit to their meager team, appeared in the doorway, stepping carefully around the broken glass littering the floor. Inugami passed through the broken window behind her, carrying a white bag in its mouth.

“He’s sort of right though.” She said to Pixie. “Humans are super boring.”

“On the contrary.” A new voice echoed. Archangel, his last demon, appeared suddenly in his peripheral vision, silent as an owl.

“Humans are fascinating,” they said. “They have so many ways of reestablishing community connections while concurrently marking time until their inevitable oblivions. I was always curious; do you need the ritual to keep track of time, or can you still feel yourself die without them?”

The Demifiend desperately wished he were still travelling alone. “Where were you guys, anyway?”

Nekomata tilted her head. “Getting supplies? Like you told us to?”

Shit. He had told them to do that, so he could rest without being seen. “Well. Good.”

Nothing appeared to be in the hall outside, but that didn’t mean much – demons hid behind every corner. He had a newly healed scar spanning his left arm, a reward for dropping his guard for a fraction of a second, to prove it.

“We got a ton of medicine, but not much else. We’re about out of antidotes.” Nekomata said. Her eyes glowed yellow and mocking. “Need us to find some? Don’t think you’re looking too good.”

The Demifiend scowled. “I don’t need anything. Let’s go.”

=

As they crossed the desert, his demons talked to each other. It made his skin itch, worse than the Kagutsuchi’s eternal scorching heat, and he didn’t know why.

It wasn’t a hazard – the closest demons flew high above, barely sparing them a glance. Their voices cut through the endless monotony of shifting dunes and howling winds, breaking the monotony while leaving him be. No one was badgering him with questions. No one would call his name because there were only three people left in the world who knew it.

The Demifiend struggled up a dune and scanned the valley below, waiting for the rest to join him before he spoke.

“There it is.” He said, pointing down the slope at several rows of weathered roofs stretched out near a crumbling bridge. “The tunnels are under the Harumi warehouse down there. Come on.”

No one moved. Nekomata fidgeted. “Do – Do we have to go that way? That’s a lot of open ground.”

Pixie pointed west. “Can we stop in the buildings over there? It’s been hours. We probably all need it.”

Inugami’s ears were drooping, and even the stone-faced angel seemed tired.

The Demifiend’s chest burned, the sweltering air taking more energy than it gave every time he breathed.

“No. Quicker we get there, quicker we reach the underpass.”

He started to slide down the dune. After a few silent, tense moments, he heard the others follow.

Archangel said something to Pixie. She laughed. The Demifiend rubbed the invisible scar on his arm and didn’t break stride. 

=

Compared to the burning sands, the warehouse was shockingly cold, and the tunnels beneath were almost freezing. The Demifiend thought he should be able to see his breath, but the tunnels were almost completely dark, with the only light coming from the faint blue bordering the markings on his body. 

He kept a hand on the wall as he moved, tracing stone and metal while reviewing the directions he’d been given. The tunnels twisted around like innards and branched off into new paths like vines swallowing a wall. There was an almost palpable tension in the stagnant air, like something in the dark was watching them.

Pixie nudged his shoulder. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

Was it three rights, a left, and two lefts? Or three rights a left, and two rights? “Of course I’m sure.” 

He stopped at a fork in the road, barely able to see the path split into two. He glanced at each in turn, practically feeling his demons’ eyes burning a hole in his back. 

“This way,” he said, turning down the left tunnel.

The path went straight for a while before sharply sloping downward and devouring any lingering light that might have pierced the gloom. The further they went, the rougher the walls became, and the more frequently he felt the edges of branching tunnels. There was an almost palpable tension in the stagnant air, like the sky before a thunderstorm.

Something moved behind him. He ducked as a something slashed through the space his head had been a millisecond earlier. 

The air exploded with the noise of magic and shouting as demons poured out of the side tunnels. A new body slammed into the Demifiend and coiled around his legs and torso so tightly that his ribs creaked. The thing sighed, heavily enough to blow his hair back. With his one free arm he punched where he thought its head was, and when his fist found its mark he lashed out with his claws and started tearing. They sank into something soft that might have been eye sockets. Hot liquid burst onto his palm and ran down his arm. 

The demon screeched. It loosened, and the Demifiend cast an Agi spell, the flame’s light nearly blinding in the darkness. 

It fell back, loosening completely. He squirmed free and kept casting Agi spells at the demon, again and again, until the smell of burning hair and flesh filled the tunnel and he almost gagged.

He moved around the body to begin aiding his own demons, but the inside of his chest started to itch. He began coughing, suddenly and violently enough to wind him. He sagged against the tunnel wall and coughed hard, tasting metal.

Toxic cloud, he realized. The demon breathed a toxic cloud on him before he killed it, and they didn’t’ have any dis-poisons. 

The Demifiend stumbled forward and nearly tripped over a body. “Over here!” he croaked. “Everyone, here!”

Familiar forms fell in beside him. He raised a trembling arm and cast Maragi above their heads in a short burst. The weak flames illuminated the space for only a few seconds, but it lasted just long enough for him to see.

Archangel, Inugami, and Pixie had all moved beside and behind him. Two Nozuchi were dead on the floor, along with the creature the Demifiend had burned. It was a demon he hadn’t seen before, one with a humanoid head and torso that tapered into a long snake’s body and tail. Two more of the new demons were coiled on the opposite end of the tunnel, cornering Nekomata with long spears. She was bristling, cradling a limp arm. 

The toxins were coursing through his system, and every motion made him feel like he was dying. He shouldn’t move.

He took a running start and slammed into one of the demon’s backs. 

He gripped its neck and shoulder as his hands glowed yellow, then red. He barely saw its scaled skin before it began to blacken and crack as his fingers sank into melting flesh.

It screamed and thrashed, throwing him to the ground, and before he could move back there was a sharp impact in his right side, just under his ribs. The spot tingled, almost like an electric shock before it intensified and burned like nothing he’d ever felt before as liquid poured under the hand pressed to the spot. It had stabbed him.

He sank to a knee, coughing, and each cough increased the burning tenfold. Everything felt distant and strange, like it was all happening to someone else. He barely heard demons slithering closer, or felt the warm liquid between his fingers.

The spears clattered to the floor. Simultaneously, the demons began to glow, a white light originating in their chests before intensifying and spreading, illuminating them from the inside out. They convulsed, fanged mouths stretched open in silent screams as the light shone so brightly that he had to shut his eyes. 

When he opened them, blinking away spots, Archangel was standing where they once stood. They ruffled their wings, the last vestiges of the Hama spell clinging to their feather tips as a fading white glow.

A small hand touched his shoulder as he felt the first waves of a healing spell.

“No,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Nekomata first.”

The hand retreated, leaving him to lie down on the concrete and try his best to forget he was alive. 

Everything was dissolving into a timeless, numb haze when arms grabbed him and pulled him up to lean on a shoulder. He heard Pixie’s hover closer, and felt something cool spread across his ribs.

“That was the last of my magic,” she said. “It won’t stop bleeding. Where’s the medicine?”

She used the last of her magic on him? He wondered, as a vial of something unbearably bitter was pressed to his lips. That was stupid. Why do that?

The haze receded after he drank the medicine, so he knew where he was and that he was leaning on Nekomata. Unfortunately it also meant he was aware of the pain again.

“Hopefully we will find further assistance when we discover the underpass.” Archangel said, their voice echoing from farther down the tunnel.

The Demifiend tried to push her away. “Let me go. I can walk.”

Nekomata pulled his arm more securely over her shoulder. “You’re joking, right?”

He gave in without another word, trying not to fall flat on his face and embarrass himself worse than he already had.

“About before,” he said. “Um. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t know where I was going and led you all into an ambush.”

The demon laughed. “No kidding.”

In lieu of responding, he coughed again, and the motion pulled at the new skin on his side that barely covered his wound. The farther they walked, the deeper the red of his markings became.

“Yeah, Naga hit like hell.” She said. “If it wasn’t for Pixie I really would’ve been in trouble.” She glanced sideways at him. “If you hadn’t come back I might have died.”

“Yeah, well.” He said, which wasn’t a real response, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

The group limped back to the fork in the road and turned down the one on the right. It was just as dark as the other, but sloped up instead of down, and lacked an oppressive atmosphere.

“Never thought you’d do something like that,” Nekomata said after awhile. “Didn’t think you were that…”

“Weak?”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But it was weakness that saved me, so I wanna be nice about it.” She looked ahead at the rest of the group, out of earshot, before muttering, “I’m not that strong, for a demon. I couldn’t find anyone to actually let me join them before you and Pixie.”

He had noticed, quickly after recruiting her. She was smaller than other Nekomata he’d seen, neither as quick nor ruthless. He assumed she’d leave the group on her own, or die in a fight, and it would be problem solved for him.

And yet.

“Wonderful.” He said. “So we’ll all be weak together.”

It was meant to be disparaging, but his tone was unexpectedly light. 

The darkness had abated enough for him to see the demon slowly blink at him. “Guess so.”

She, nor the others, looked any worse for wear. It made him feel better, even as his markings glowed bright red and his insides felt like they were being deboned and pulverized. 

He couldn’t pass out. “Pixie?”

She flew back to them and hovered by his shoulder, glancing between his face and his side. “Yeah?”

“My birthday would have been a week after the Conception.” He said, and hoped she would pick up on what he was trying to say.

She did. Pixie asked what he was going to do for it, he stayed awake enough to answer her, and conversation haltingly bloomed between the five of them. The Demifiend talked, for the longest time since the Conception. He explained what birthdays looked like, that he would have been 18, and that he wouldn’t have done anything because he never did. 

He did not explain that he didn’t celebrate because he wasn’t allowed to, or that he used to think he celebrated when he was young but only realized recently he was just remembering television commercials, but he started to feel like it wouldn’t be so bad if he did.

As they talked, he heard a distant monotone buzz, like television static. It was only once they reached the end of the path and passed through the final door that he realized what the sound was; a waterfall, spilling out of a large pipe in the wall and flowing into a river contained by the concrete embankments of the Underpass. 

(The group almost audibly breathed a sigh of relief, and he felt relieved too – not at the sight of the Underpass, but because the others were happy. Huh.)

=

Three days passed. The Demifiend’s was as healed as he was going to get, and it was time for them to leave. At the moment, however, he could not, because Inugami was hovering like a watchdog in front of the room the rest of the demons were holed up in

“Can I come in yet?” 

“No, wait a second!” A voice from the room shouted.

He opened the door. “What are you –hey!”

Before he could see anything, the demonic hound curled around his head like a giant furry blindfold.

“Just one more second, and… okay, done! Let him go.”

Inugami uncoiled and licked at his hand. “Hope you like it.”

The Demifiend walked in, and didn’t really know what he was looking at.

Strips of safety vests hung from the doorway, twisting on strings and catching scraps of light from the main tunnel. Colorful junk and glass bottles were propped up against the walls, themselves slashed with fluorescent paint. Three cans of food and a thermos sat in the center of the room, surrounded by the rest of his demons, who looked at him expectantly. 

”What is this?” he asked.

“It’s for you,” Pixie said. “Obviously. For your birthday.”

Archangel held out a severely dented can. “A few Manikin here collect human paraphernalia. We pooled some of our funds to procure human food. There are no candles, but I am happy to ignite the cans if necessary.”

He took the can. His face felt strange, and it took him a moment to realize it was because he was smiling. “You didn’t have to do this, but. Thanks.” He said, and hoped his voice sounded normal.

He tore off the top of the can. Salmon, and it still smelled all right. “Anyone want to try some?”

It occurred to the Demifiend, sitting beside the others and eating spare bites of canned food, that he felt something strangely close to contentment. And, doubly strange, being seen so content with his guard down didn’t fill him with nearly the same amount of fear that it had before.

**Author's Note:**

> I was incredibly proud to have my work featured along such great pieces in the zine, check it out if you like smt at all, its great
> 
> ancestrallizard.tumblr.com
> 
> twitter.com/DVLblues


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